Chapter 11 : Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Little Black Cat

“Consort Jing’s miscarriage was caused by chronic poisoning.”

My voice, like a stone cast into a still pond, stirred countless ripples.

Even the incense ash rising from the bronze censer on the tea table, once drifting straight to the ceiling, now swirled chaotically.

Chunrong stepped forward: “Are you sure? My lady’s miscarriage was indeed caused by poisoning? Tell me, who did it?”

Behind the screen, the sound of rustling bedding suggested Consort Jing was propping herself up.

The four sturdy servants beside me unconsciously loosened their grip, no longer dragging me harshly.

Everyone awaited my answer.

But was Consort Jing truly poisoned? I wasn’t certain.

In this deadly situation, if I didn’t say something shocking, I’d die in Prince Jing’s Mansion.

Consort Jing, puzzled, asked from behind the screen: “You’re certain I was poisoned?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I calmly adjusted my disheveled clothes and asked: “Besides Consort Jing, has anyone else in Evening Star Courtyard felt unwell?”

Chunrong shook her head: “No. Everyone’s daily routines, even the maids’, are recorded. If anyone’s unwell, they’re barred from entering Evening Star Courtyard to avoid passing illness to the fetus.”

I thought for a moment, then turned to the screen: “My lady, may I search your room for clues?”

“Outrageous,” snapped Xitang, the matron beside Consort Yun. “An outsider male rummaging through Consort Jing’s room? What propriety is that?”

Consort Jing interrupted: “Let him search. If he can find the culprit who killed my child, what’s the harm in looking? Chunhua, take the young doctor from the clinic outside. Chunrong, tidy my clothes and help me dress, then let him back in to investigate.”

This was a noble’s decorum, and it bought me time to think.

Chunhua led me downstairs, whispering anxiously: “Was there really poison?”

Under the night sky, I stood by the fishpond in Evening Star Courtyard, watching koi flicker in the dark water, lost in thought without answering.

After a moment, Chunrong called me back upstairs.

Consort Jing, now about thirty-three, sat in a chair, draped in a red cloak, her hair tied back simply with a ribbon.

Her pale face fixed on me: “I was thinking about your mention of chronic poisoning. Could someone have tampered with the incense?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Incense smoke spreads everywhere. If it were tampered with, Chunrong would be unwell too. The poisoner must have used something only you use daily, or the toxin would be metabolized if not used regularly.”

Seeing my certainty, they let me search without further comment.

As time ticked by, I picked up a rouge box.

“Have you used this rouge recently for dressing up?” I examined the box, inlaid with butterfly-shaped white mother-of-pearl, exquisite like a work of art.

Consort Jing shook her head: “Since my pregnancy, I’ve avoided such things to protect the fetus.”

I set down the rouge box, my gaze sweeping over items, but I found no clues.

Gradually, sweat beaded on my forehead.

Where? Where was it?

In my mind, I raced through every clue—this was my chance to survive!

After what felt like ages, Consort Jing lost patience: “I thought you were confident, but you’re just bluffing. Fine, I understand you spoke boldly out of fear. No need to fear execution—just take ten lashes outside.”

Consort Yun, who’d been sitting, lost interest and stood: “I’m tired. I’ll rest.”

“Wait,” I suddenly picked up a blue cup.

The cup was sea-blue, with a wisp of green like ethereal mist swirling around it, beautiful as if it didn’t belong to this world.

Consort Jing sat up, puzzled: “Is there a problem with this cup?”

I asked earnestly: “My lady, do you have a metallic taste in your mouth that lingers even after rinsing?”

Consort Jing was shocked: “How did you know? Is that a symptom of poisoning?”

I let out a long breath, my tension easing: “It’s lead poisoning.”

Chunrong frowned: “What’s that? Never heard of it.”

“I mean this cup is poisonous.”

Lead poisoning was unfamiliar to this era, but not to me.

This cup, known as lead-barium glass, emerged when glassmaking began in ancient times, with records dating back to the Han Dynasty. Its beauty transcended the era, beloved by nobles.

But its beauty hid poison. For adults, issues might take years to surface, but for a fetus, the toxicity was lethal.

Consort Yun’s eyes gleamed with interest: When I mentioned the metallic taste, Consort Jing’s reaction confirmed I’d found the poisoning’s cause!

Consort Jing mused: “This cup was…”

I quickly said: “My lady, I’ve found the poison’s source. Where the cup came from isn’t my concern. May I leave now? I apologize for any offense tonight.”

Consort Jing paused: “Where did Physician Yao find such a prudent apprentice? Rest assured, you found the culprit who harmed my child. You’ll be rewarded later, and no one in Evening Star Courtyard will trouble you.”

Though she’d found the culprit, her grief over losing her child kept her somber.

Consort Yun said gently: “Good thing you found the poison’s source, Sister, or using that cup to drink would’ve been dangerous. Hm, I recall that cup was a gift from your family, wasn’t it? During the Spring Festival poetry gathering, you showed it off to Lady Liu, the Marquis’s wife.”

Consort Jing’s expression shifted slightly.

In the delicate atmosphere of Evening Star Courtyard, I didn’t dare speak, only stealing glances at my surroundings.

The black and white cats were still fighting—or rather, the black cat was being beaten from east to west and back. Too small, it had no chance to fight back.

So pitiful.

Life wasn’t easy for cats in noble households either…

Wait—was it my imagination, or did the black cat keep glancing at my sleeve while fleeing?

Xitang, beside Consort Yun, whispered: “My lady, we should rest.”

She picked up the white cat to leave.

I realized the white cat belonged to Consort Yun, the black one to Consort Jing.

The white cat’s purpose seemed to be beating up the black cat.

“I won’t disturb your rest, Sister,” Consort Yun said, rising gracefully. “Stay indoors and recover well.”

Consort Jing paused: “Thank you, Sister.”

Consort Yun turned with a smile to a young maid: “Xibing, escort this… Chen Ji, right?”

I lowered my head: “Yes, Chen Ji.”

“Go, Xibing, take him back to the clinic.”

…

…

Leaving Evening Star Courtyard, it was midnight, the first quarter of the Chou hour.

My back, sweaty from the ordeal, felt cold in the autumn breeze. I followed Xibing closely, fearing any delay might bring more trouble.

Tonight’s ordeal wasn’t luck—it left me melancholic.

On that rickety green-skinned train to Beijing, my father had told me about ancient Rome’s suspected decline from lead poisoning. That’s when I learned its dangers and that ancient vessels often used lead for vibrant colors, making lead poisoning common.

Xibing, in a pale yellow skirt, moved lightly like an oriole. Her training showed—her hairpin barely swayed as she walked.

The bustling inner quarters were alive with servants, all bowing to Xibing, indicating her high status.

Unlike the somber “Chun” servants of Evening Star Courtyard, Xibing returned courtesies with a cheerful smile, in high spirits.

As we walked, she suddenly asked: “Do you think the person who gave Consort Jing that cup did it on purpose?”

I didn’t answer, nor dared to, only smiling as if I hadn’t heard.

Xibing huffed: “Fine, don’t talk.”

Before I returned to the clinic, Xibing sized me up, smiling: “Your clothes got torn by the Evening Star Courtyard folks. Tomorrow, I’ll order two new sets from the tailoring bureau! Remember, only my lady is the most generous in the mansion. Being an apprentice has no future, but if you win my lady’s favor, your prospects are bright.”

I thought for a moment: “Thank Consort Yun for her kindness, but no need for the clothes.”

Xibing rolled her eyes cutely: “Others would kill for my lady’s favor, and you push it away? No refusing—my lady’s gifts aren’t for a lowly apprentice to decline. I’m off!”

Xibing left, and I pushed open the clinic door.

Closing it, I leaned against it, exhausted. Since arriving in this world, crises never stopped. I needed to stay razor-sharp to survive.

“Master’s Six Lines divination seems real,” I sighed. Whether others believed it, I did.

Tonight’s hexagram was dangerously ominous—one wrong move, and I’d have been buried without a trace.

I’d avoid the mansion at all costs in the future.

Dragging my tired body, I shuffled to the back courtyard.

By the apricot tree, I heard She Dakang and Liu Quxing snoring in the apprentice dormitory. They slept soundly.

No one waited for my return or cared if I’d died in the mansion.

In this world, no one helped me. I had only myself.

As I thought, my body stiffened.

The icy current in my dantian, far stronger than yesterday’s, raged through me. In a split second, my blood, muscles, and bones felt frozen.

Stone-Bearing Stance!

Struggling, I assumed the stance in the courtyard to counter the icy current.

But it didn’t retreat to my dantian as before, only calming slightly.

A warm current surged from my lower back, slowly wrestling with the ice. Unable to move, I held the stance.

Exhaustion and cold intertwined, my eyelids growing heavy. In a few breaths, I fell asleep standing by the apricot tree in that strange pose.

At the tree’s top, a crow landed, silently watching me become a statue in the night.